Speed
by jacey1210
Summary: Sabrina Hale is a werecheetah, faster than any living thing on this Earth. Can Scott's pack keep up with her?
1. Chapter 1

Derek cocked his head, nostrils flaring slightly as he stood up. Scott stood as well, motioning for the others to remain seated but alert. Locking eyes with the Hale, the two alphas moved smoothly towards the front door. Derek rested his hand lightly on the door handle, as Scott nodded once. Whipping the door open, he froze, taking a step backwards. Scott peered over his shoulder at the caramel-haired girl standing in front of him. One of her hands fingered the straps on her black backpack, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.

"Derek?" The older alpha snapped his mouth shut, reaching out a hand towards the seventeen-year old.

"Sabrina?" She grinned, flashing pointed, elongated canines and red eyes.

"Hey, cousin."

Derek walked her into the dining room, one arm wrapped around her shoulders as Scott walked on her other side. Cora stood up abruptly, chair falling down behind her as she scrabbled backwards.

"Dude, what's going on?" asked Stiles, head turning from Sabrina to Derek to Scott. "Who's she?" Malia inhaled deeply, cocking her head and locking gazes with Sabrina, who smiled neutrally.

"My cousin," said Derek, voice wavering on the last syllable, "Sabrina."

"I've never seen her in my life," said Lydia, waving her hand, "She wasn't on the Deadpool, so she can't be too important." Feeling his cousin's body stiffen under his arm, Derek glared at Lydia.

"I'm gonna go upstairs," she muttered in Derek's ear. Cora walked slowly around the table, locking arms with her.

"I haven't seen you in forever," she breathed, "It's been, what, ten years?" Sabrina smiled ruefully.

"A lot happened. Too much."

"Spill," responded Cora as the two walked out of the room upstairs.

"What is she?" asked Scott, leaning his hands on the table, "She isn't a werewolf, werecoyote, or werejaguar."

"Definitely not a banshee," added Lydia, letting out a breath of relief.

"Her scent's foreign," mused Malia as Stiles raised an eyebrow. Liam furrowed his brow.

"So's her accent. It's faint, but it's there."

"It's South African," said Derek, "Her family moved there when she was seven after her father became suspicious of the Argents." Allison shifted uncomfortably as Kira nudged her encouragingly.

"Where's her family?" asked the kitsune, "She couldn't have come here herself." Derek sighed.

"She must have. Her family's dead. A lamia."

"Lamia?" asked Scott, leaning forward.

"Greek demon woman. Torso of a woman, body of a snake," sighed Lydia, examining her manicure. "What? I read."

"Bitten or born?" asked Allison, "She'd be more dangerous if she was-"

"Bitten. Her family was normal. No trace of the werewolf gene."

"Is that possible?" asked Stiles, "This is a hereditary thing."

"Her Hale father received the recessive, non-werewolf trait. His wife was human, and so were their children."

"What do we do with her?" asked Kira, "Can she fight?"

"Take her to school," said Derek grimly, "And wait."

Sabrina blinked awake to see Derek shaking her shoulders. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes for a second until she was fully alert.

"What are you doing?"

"Waking you up for school," he growled, bags under his eyes, "This isn't fun for me either."

"I've already passed school," she replied matter-of-factly, "And college. Skipped a few grades after the bite."

"Oh really?" retorted Derek, "What South African college did you go to?"

"I went to Stanford. Didn't come here first." He rolled his eyes, standing up.

"You need to get out of the house. Just sign up for three classes. Do something to stay in shape."

"Thanks, Dad," she grinned, blinking innocently. He groaned. "What's for breakfast?"

"You'll have to get it yourself."

"What?"

"Grab something before school starts. There's a Starbucks on the main road-"

"I didn't drive here, Derek." He turned towards her. "I ran."

"She can come with me," interrupted Cora, poking her head through the doorway, "I can drive." Sabrina smiled gratefully at her cousin. "We'll leave in twenty?"

"Deal." Derek walked out of the room, letting Cora in. "Do people at Beacon Hills dress athletic, preppy, or casual?"

"Depends on who you hang out with. I'd go preppy-casual," she added. "What do you have?" Pulling out a red flannel, tube top, dark jeans, and leather combat boots, Sabrina grinned.

"I literally have three outfits."

"Shopping after school?" Sabrina pulled out a credit card.

"Deal."

Fifteen minutes later, she slid into Cora's car, hair brushed and shining. Tucking her necklace into her shirt before Cora could see, she buckled her seatbelt, and Cora started her car.

"What's your schedule?"

"I emailed the principal this morning. I have Chemistry with Stiles and Scott, Photography with Liam, AP English with Allison, and AP US History, BC Calc, and AP Physics with Lydia, and AP Economics with Stiles and Lydia." Cora's eyes widened.

"Jeez, Sabs, Derek told me you were smart, but I didn't know you were the Einstein." She shrugged.

"It's just the bite. I'd be a moron without it."

"What are you?" Cora blushed, "Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant: who bit you?"

"I was...kept by a werecheetah after the lamia found my father. Long story short, he bit me, I broke out and ran."

"Ran? To California?" Sabrina grinned.

"Just like Jesus. No, I took a plane."

"How'd you get a ticket?"

"I ran."

"Through security?"

"Yep. Right past them. Right past the boarding pass people, too. Same thing at SFO."

"You're insane," laughed Cora.

"I prefer instinctive in relation to self-preservation," she grinned, "Or lucky."


	2. Chapter 2

Cora parked the car in front of the main office, then led Sabrina inside.

"What's first?"

"Chemistry?"

"This way." Stopping in front of a generic high school classroom, Cora hugged her cousin tightly. "Good luck. Don't get on his nerves."

"Wha-" Cora pushed her inside, Sabrina walking to the back of the classroom and collapsing in her seat to pull out a graph paper notebook and pencil.

"Hey, Sabrina," muttered a voice to her left. She turned her head slightly to see Scott and Stiles leaning towards her, "Can you use Planck's constant?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you do this problem? Mr. Harris is gonna call random volunteers to do work on the board." She nodded, raising an eyebrow as she handed the paper back to them. Stiles' face immediately lit up.

"Oh!"

"You just forgot it's negative, not positive." He wrinkled his nose.

"Every time."

"You'll get it." Scott stared at her.

"Will you tutor us?"

"Uh, if I have time?"

"You're a lifesaver," breathed Scott.

"Listen up, class," barked Mr. Harris, "Finish the worksheet I'll be passing out to you. It'll be your exit ticket. You have one hour. Begin." Sabrina eyed the worksheet in front of her. Easy peasy.

She finished all thirty problems in twenty minutes, standing up and walking to Mr. Harris' desk with her completed worksheet.

"Done so soon, Ms...Hale? You seem to already be quite adept at this exercise for a new student," he drawled, eyes flicking from her paper to her face. She smiled innocently, nodding.

"I've already learned the material," she began, "So if I could have the rest of the work for this unit-"

"I think you're a cheater," he barked, the entire class falling silent.

"Mr. Harris, why would I cheat on classwork?"

"Admitting your guilt already, hmm?" She resisted the urge to flip him off, keeping her voice level.

"Mr. Harris, would you like me to prove I'm not cheating?" He smiled smugly.

"I'll give you a problem, Sabrina, and if you solve it in five minutes, you go free." She nodded, feeling the eyes of her classmates boring into her back. Already, she had attracted far too much attention to herself.

Mr. Harris scrawled a problem in Thermodynamics on the whiteboard, adjusting his glasses before handing her the pen. She studied his writing for a few moments before accepting the marker, making him wait on her. The teacher walked back to his desk, grabbing sheets of paper from individual piles and slipping them into a folder upon which he wrote her name.

Sabrina's fingers flew over the whiteboard, blue marker furiously scribbling numbers and formulas across the white surface as the information poured out from her hands. Carry the 1, Plank's Constant in Formula 8, multiply then add 5.89 Joules, and box your answer.

Capping the pen and setting it on the metal tray beneath the whiteboard, she took the folder from Mr. Harris' hands and walked back to her seat to grab her backpack before heading towards the door.

"Thank you for your time," she called towards Mr. Harris, inclining her head ever so slightly. He glared at her before she closed the door. "Now what?" she muttered, walking towards her locker. I wonder if they have a good track team...or cross country? Soccer or lacrosse could be fun?

The rest of school was a blur of boringness. Sabrina slogged through all of her classes, finishing her work far ahead of her classmates. Lydia was interesting, though, as she was one of the smarter people she'd met. And naturally intelligent, not bite-induced intelligent.

The sound of catcalls and laughing made her turn around. Immediately, from someone in the pack of Devenford Prep lacrosse players, she smelled a werewolf. Only one way to find out. Raising an eyebrow at Cora, who smiled mischievously, Sabrina leaned against the wall of lockers, one foot pressed against the metal, fingers fiddling with the top button of her flannel, buttoning and unbuttoning it.

Cora linked arms with her, the two of them walking down the hallway towards the lacrosse field.

"Check yourself," she breathed, "Brett's a werewolf. He and Liam hate each other." Sabrina made a face.

"Why are the hot ones always werewolves?" Cora snorted.

"Liam's gonna kill you."

"I don't even know him!"  
>"He'll smell him on you."<p>

"I have perfume. With wolfsbane, actually." Cora shook her head, smiling.

"You're a genius. You're a freaking genius, Sabs."

"I try," she grinned, "I'm gonna have some fun. There's a game tonight?"

"At seven. We always go. I've gotta check in with a teacher about my grades. Met you in twenty at my car?"

"Deal." Cora waved before stepping into a history classroom. Sabrina kept walking towards the lacrosse field and track. Boys later, exercise now.

On her way out, she caught sight of a brown-haired, sweaty man with a whistle around his neck.

"Excuse me, but do you know where I can find Coach?" The man leaned back.

"I am Coach, missy. Who are you?"

"Sabrina. Hale." Coach's eyes widened.

"Why didn't you say so? Can you play lacrosse?"

"Uh, yeah, but I'm better at running-"

"You're playing. The Lord answered my prayers, and Greenberg's out for a month with a sprained knee. You're on the team, honey." Sabrina's mouth dropped.

"What? I don't have a stick-"

"I have a backup," drawled a smooth voice from behind her. She whirled around, face to face with Brett, who smelled strongly of werewolf. The rest of his team had stopped behind him, watching him talk to you. "I'll need it back after the game, sweetheart," he winked, handing you a stick.

"Thanks," she grinned, turning back to Coach, "I'm gonna go for a run. What time? 6:30 for warmups?"

"You're running? Before a game? Absolutely not."

"I'll be fine," she replied, waving a hand dismissively, "It helps me concentrate. It's cool. Where's the locker room?" Coach rolled his eyes, pointing towards the field.

"There's a guest locker room out there where you can change."

"Yeah, change with us," called one of the Prep players. Sabrina held up her middle finger over her head.

"Thanks, Coach." Shifting her backpack, she pushed the door open and started towards the guest locker room. I need five minutes to change. "Brett, I need five minutes in the locker room." He raised an eyebrow, falling into step next to you.

"You know my name?" She mentally smacked herself in the face.

"One of my friend's told me to avoid you, actually." Brett made a face.

"Liam?"

"Something like that. Not important."

"Yeah, I can get you five minutes before they try to break in," he said, nodding back towards his teammates, "No guarantees."

"And you?"

"Like I haven't seen it before."

"So you admit you're a perv who watches girls change without them knowing about it?" He grinned.

"Oh, they knew, sweetheart. The question is: will you?"

"Probably. I'd kick your ass if I caught you, though."

"Wanna bet?"

"Does betting mean you'll try to watch me?" His grin grew even wider. "I'll pass. Sorry to cancel the show."

"I'm sure there'll be others," he responded, winking as he opened the locker room door for you, "Five minutes is the best I can do."

"Deal." She closed the door, bolting it and every window in the room shut. Unlacing her boots and pulling of her jeans, she slipped on a pair of Nike running shorts and Flyknits over Elites, then unbuttoned her flannel and unhooked her bra to pull on a sports bra. We'll see how this goes.

Throwing her backpack and clothes into an empty locker and closing the door, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and unlocked the door, stepping outside. Immediately, Prep players began whistling and catcalling. Rolling her eyes, she jogged away at an even pace, probably for a 6 minute mile. Very slow.

Once she passed the lacrosse field and was approaching a wooded area, she picked up speed, paces stretching out farther and farther, legs and arms pumping more rapidly. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, fast and steady like a metronome.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn around but continue at her pace. Seeing Brett keep up with her, she grinned, kicking it up a notch. He was moving at a walking speed from her point of view as she sped away, leaves falling in slow motion.

Sabrina stopped abruptly in front of the lacrosse field. Probably ran a mile or two in a few minutes. Not her best time, but she'd have to save her energy for the lacrosse game tonight.


End file.
